


if you feel too much: things found and lost and hoped for

by kookoofairie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Advice, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Draco Malfoy is a Good Boyfriend, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Good Draco Malfoy, Grief/Mourning, Harry Needs a Hug, Hugs, Hurt Harry, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Lowercase, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Canon Compliant, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Past Character Death, Relationship(s), Secret Relationship, Short, Short One Shot, This Is STUPID, but it is, good ending, harry potter grieves, i made a few changes to things, it's like not canon compliant, they're boyfriends, to make it make sense, yes he breaks too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27482554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kookoofairie/pseuds/kookoofairie
Summary: “you’re upset?”it’s said almost awkwardly as he closes the door behind him, leaving his father’s walking stick on the table as if such a dark representation is welcome at all. it isn’t. but draco represents something dark too, and here harry is, letting him in, letting him ask what’s wrong with him. harry represents the good side- and draco represents the opposite, with the dark mark on his arm to prove it. maybe that’s why they’ve always been able to meet in the middle, somehow. they’ve both had their fair share of trauma.or: in which harry discovers something he shouldn't all too soon- and someone unexpected comes to his rescue, giving him a piece of advice harry never thought he'd need or have to hear.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 59





	if you feel too much: things found and lost and hoped for

**Author's Note:**

> title based on the book of the same name by jamie tworkowski "if you feel too much: thoughts on things found and lost and hoped for".
> 
> this is not completely based on the canon harry potter world; i accidentally messed with the actual plotline of the books and movies. but like, not too much? i tried my best to not change things- it's still the same setting, the only thing that's different is that i've placed a period of time in the middle of the battle of hogwarts- it takes place after harry finds out his true fate and ( spoiler alert! ) how he was always meant to meet his passing when facing voldemort. except, harry needs comfort and who better to get it from than draco malfoy?
> 
> this is my first drabble here on ao3! i hope you enjoy reading, thank you for your interest <3

the rain slides down the cold window slowly, steadily, water marks trailing down in the wake of the smallest of raindrops, following suit in a path of inevitable doom. he follows one raindrop in particular all the way down to the rimming where it meets a tragic end, breaking into a million smaller molecules missable by the naked eye, barely memorable by the time they’re gone. he wonders, then, if that’s all his purpose is, too. to leave barely a mark, to meet a tragic end. to be remembered not for who he is, but for what he represented. _(‘the boy who lived’, ‘the boy with the lightning scar’, ‘the wizarding world saviour, rejoice him, rejoice him.’ ) ___

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harry knows why his ears burnt so hot he was sent to madame pomfrey’s quarters in his first year of hogwarts. he’s well aware, now. the cauldron told him so, harry allowing his face to be submerged by the turquoise surface- there was professor snape and dumbledore, standing in a dark room, whispering, _he was only ever meant to die. you’ve raised him for slaughter. ___

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is that really all he’s meant to live for? to die? is that all that he can offer with his entire existence of suffering, of learning, of becoming a better skilled wizard? there’s not even any certainty that he can defeat ‘you-know-who’ by the end of it all, before he dies. and if he doesn’t defeat him, then he truly doesn’t have a purpose, not even in death. at this point in his life, all that harry knows is _grief _. growing up without parents, losing friends, losing family. hell, his friends were his family. every time he manages to find someone to hold onto they just.. dwindle away. they leave him.__

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harry’s life was nothing but a cruel joke. 

first, there was cedric: a hufflepuff boy with so much joy withheld in his eyes that harry could feel his mood perk up just at the sight of him in the periods between classes. _alright, harry? _cedric’s eyes were grey and dull- there was nothing actually special about them. and yet, the beauty of his soul still shone through them, spreading happiness as bright as day to those who required need of it. it wasn’t the bright yellows of his uniform that made his aura glow, it was his face, always graced with a gentle smile. he graced the world with a kind heart, made everything.. more okay. more manageable. and now there’s too much of everything for anything to ever be okay again. cedric helped harry survive the triwizard tournament and harry couldn’t grant him the same. harry watched as his wonderfully dull eyes dimmed, that beautiful soul harry admired escaping them so quickly he couldn’t commit it to memory. harry watched him meet his end in front of him. just like this raindrop.__

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then, there was.. sirius. harry doesn’t notice he’s crying until the door behind him opens, reacting fast, raising his arm quickly to cover his eyes- he slips his glasses off, wiping a dark blue sleeve to collect his personal raindrops, taking in a deep breath through a sniffle. “yeah? ron? what-” he turns then, and.. blonde hair. another pair of grey eyes, more silvery. icy. “you’re not ron.”

draco scoffs, his eyes rolling momentarily, “no kidding, potter. it’s not the first time you’ve come out with something stupid to say.” it’s not the first time draco has broken entrance into the gryffindor commons, either. he’s been here before, always entering with his head hung low, opening harry’s door earnestly, sitting on the bed next to him when it gets too much to bear, pouring out his heart and accepting harry’s in return. if he notices the tears in harry’s eyes, he doesn’t say anything about them. his gaze is sharp, although there’s something delicate beneath, something harry is never able to identify- draco isn’t easy to read like cedric, or sirius. he’s full of complications- pretentious, but sensitive. aggressive, but soft. hating harry, but listening anyway.

“you’re upset?” it’s said almost awkwardly as he closes the door behind him, leaving his father’s walking stick on the table as if such a dark representation is welcome at all. it isn’t. but draco represents something dark too, and here harry is, letting him in, letting him ask what’s wrong with him. harry represents the good side- and draco represents the opposite, with the dark mark on his arm to prove it. maybe that’s why they’ve always been able to meet in the middle, somehow. they’ve both had their fair share of trauma.

“don’t know, am i? finding out i was born to die isn’t exactly the lightest revelation.” harry sets his glasses back on his face, pushing them up with his forefinger to sit properly at the bridge of his nose. at least he’s not stuck in a trance anymore, watching raindrops fall and contemplating the angel of death endlessly. 

draco doesn’t respond, not at first. for a moment, harry swears something breaks in his eyes. and for a moment, it almost seems like the slytherin, too, will succumb to a breakdown. but, it’s just a moment. and moments pass. they always do. too quickly. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

that’s the real question, isn’t it. what does it mean? harry wasn’t even supposed to find out, having found out accidentally. he has no fucking idea what it means. so, he shrugs his shoulders, stepping away from the window, taking a seat on his four poster bed. “don’t know.” he reaches behind his back for his wand once he sits, not for any other reason than to have something to fiddle with. something to focus on. he twirls it between his fingers, rolling it. sighing. rolling it again. sighing, again. lifting his head, harry sees that draco hasn’t moved an inch from where he stands, cemented to the ground there. maybe he’s waiting for harry to say something, to explain. or maybe he’s trying to carve every feature of harry’s face into his mind for safe keeping. 

“i saw it. in the cauldron.” harry says, finally, meeting draco’s eyes. “you saw yourself dying? because that’s not an accurate representation of the future, you know it’s not, that mudblood will tell you the same-” “no.” he drops his head once again, unable to keep it up without feeling tired anymore. “i saw them talking. dumbledore and snape.” another silence fills up all of the space in the air, suffocatingly so. it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.

draco moves across the room, for the first time since arriving, harry feeling the dip in the bed before he realises draco is moving at all- why is it that everything is moving so _slowly? _“well. dumbledore isn’t right about everything, you know.” it’s still strange, to be comforted by draco like this. his arm is draped around his shoulders, rubbing circles into the far one. holding harry close. he still remembers the first time they shared affection, hidden away behind doors, where on the outside everyone swore by the hatred they shared for one another. sometimes, it was days before they’d be able to meet like this. when umbridge was in power it reached months. it’s never been easy- and maybe that’s why they haven’t allowed it to develop into anything by official name. they aren’t dating, they aren’t. but meeting, sitting together, sharing kisses every now and then- it’s enough. it has to be. harry isn’t ready to lose someone else. having the lack of a label on their relationship gives harry a false sense of security, even though he knows if he were to lose draco as a little more than a friend, it’d hurt just as much. “he wasn’t right when he left you alone in the muggle world for eleven years.”__

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harry allows himself the comfort of leaning into draco’s touch. if he could erase his worries for even a moment, it’d do him a world of good. he’s tired. he’s _so _tired. tired of losing, tired of never gaining. tired of living in a world where the fear of a war is always brewing, where hermione is called names just for being muggleborn, where ron is criticized for the lack of wealth in his heritage, where draco is constantly being forced to reiterate opinions about both not of his own. the thought of it ending doesn’t even seem possible, in account of all of those things. but god, it’s all harry can hope for. that this dreary, close ended life will ease.__

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“then why do i feel like dumbledore has been planning this from the start?” 

“that doesn’t mean you should give up on having a life.” draco replies quickly, not wasting a second of time. because it’s fleeting, it’s running out as they sit here- and they’re both aware. he’s hasty, spitting his words right out like a dragon would fire, as if it’s something crucial harry needs to be told immediately. as if his life depends on it. “i’ve spent my entire life listening to the plans my parents have for me. years, i’ve spent, listening and repeating and doing what i’m told, and look where that’s got me.” draco runs a finger over the cuff of his sleeve, a heavy reminder of what lies beneath. the presence of the dark mark beneath his sleeve is suddenly a lot more terrifying. it’s right there, right where his parents had voldemort place it on him against his wishes. 

“but do you know what i’ve learned from it all? don’t listen. all your life, you’re told to listen, to behave. but that’s not living your life- that’s living someone else’s. i’m living the life my parents had planned for me before i was even born, and i fucking hate it, potter. i regret everything in my life except getting close to you like this. that’s the only thing i did while not listening and it’s the one thing i’m grateful for. don’t let a bunch of stupid plans take over your own desires.”

harry lets the words sink in, like a weight that gets lighter the more he allows it to rest. he’s right.. isn’t he? draco often talks about how much he hates his life- how much he hates being a death eater. at first, harry turned him away for it, finding the mark on his arm when they were kissing in the room of requirement the first day of term. but then, late one night a few days later, draco collapsed into his bed next to him, curling up his trembling body as small as possible into harry’s side, repeating _“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. they made me do it, i’m so sorry.” _draco had always been told never to apologise to someone lower than him- harry’s own mother had been muggleborn. as well as that, harry was on the wrong side of the war, the heroine of the other side. as such, the malfoys looked down on him. and for a while, harry believed draco to be the same. but draco never thought of harry as less than him- he might have said so, might have said revoltingly mean words to him over the years, but in the end, they weren’t his words. he didn’t.. believe them. to hear him apologising like that, sounding broken and guilty- harry still remembers the way his heart broke, a million pieces scattered across his dorm room.__

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draco tried to fight against his parent’s wishes before, but it only ended in a fight that lasted weeks. it was too much to handle, the wrath of his parents too harsh to consider managing any longer. they threatened to remove him from hogwarts, which harry discovered in a letter during the course of the previous summer. _i can’t risk that. i can’t risk not seeing you again. i’ll succumb, but i’ll stay strong, i promise, potter._

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but harry won’t succumb to this- he won’t succumb to death. there’s no way in hell he’s going to just accept it simply like that. he owes it to draco- to everyone he’s lost and still has. if he can find a way to make this end without reaching his demise, maybe there’ll be a chance for them in the future. maybe he can live on to see what life is like after the war. maybe, he and draco can talk about this moment someday, sitting together and watching the sun rise on a hopeful horizon- there is still hope.

“so, you’re saying i should act like more of a slytherin than you are? you don’t seem very rebellious to me at all, malfoy.” they’re both cracking grins at that, draco holding him a little closer, a little tighter-

“that’s exactly what i’m saying.”


End file.
